


Speak My Language

by Carmenlire



Series: Tumblr Prompts [23]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Bookstore Owner Magnus Bane, First Meetings, Florist Alec Lightwood, Friends to Lovers, Language of Flowers, M/M, Mundane Magnus Bane/Mundane Alec Lightwood, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 12:38:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16555919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmenlire/pseuds/Carmenlire
Summary: “Hey, man, welcome to Lightwood Blooms. Can I help you?”Magnus takes in the dirt smudged apron tied haphazardly around the guy’s waist and his megawatt smile, reluctantly charmed.“Hello, there,” he replies, gesturing behind him with a hand. “My name is Magnus Bane and I just moved into the space next to here. I’m opening a bookstore, Bane Books, and thought that I should introduce myself to the proprietor here.”Or, Magnus moves to a small town and finds more than he dreamed possible.





	Speak My Language

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by kindaresilent: flower shop owner! alec lightwood ft bookstore owner! magnus bane

Magnus opens the door to the shop and is immediately assaulted with the smell of dirt and plants. He’s never been one for flowers-- they just died and smelled like a funeral parlor-- but obviously the appeal is there for others.

Apparently that appeal is rather large indeed because the florist’s shop is buzzing this afternoon. There’s a line at the cash register and another half a dozen people are browsing along the neat rows that make up the majority of the shop, examining orchids and herbs and everything in between.

Truth be told, Magnus feels a little out of his depth. He can barely tell a rose from a sunflower and he’s gone through the past twenty-seven years just fine. Being immersed in an environment that he doesn't know has him feeling a little off-kilter.

Luckily, he must look particularly lost because a gangly worker approaches him, almost knocking off a pot of petunias on his way, though he catches it with hardly a glance.

“Hey, man, welcome to Lightwood Blooms. Can I help you?”

Magnus takes in the dirt smudged apron tied haphazardly around the guy’s waist and his megawatt smile, reluctantly charmed.

“Hello, there,” he replies, gesturing behind him with a hand. “My name is Magnus Bane and I just moved into the space next to here. I’m opening a bookstore, Bane Books, and thought that I should introduce myself to the proprietor here.”

Nodding along, the employee seems in a daze for a second before snorting and holding out a fist for, presumably, Magnus to bump. Which he does so bemusedly.

“My name is Simon and I’m just part time here. Alec and Isabelle were nice enough to give me a job that works around my class schedule. Political science is no joke, you know?” Simon seems to realize that he’s rambling, reigning himself in. “Izzy’s out on delivery but Alec’s in the back starting tomorrow’s arrangements.”

He points to the bright blue swinging doors with the giant lilies painted over them. All around, Lightwood Blooms is a burst of color. Each wall could serve as an accent wall by itself, in bold, deeply saturated colors. It’s warm and inviting with a touch of chipper elegance.

“You can go ahead through the doors and introduce yourself.” Simon turns, chuckling, to help a customer decide on peonies or daffodils and so Magnus starts toward the back, wondering why Simon seemed so amused at him meeting this Alec.

He pushes the door open carefully, not knowing what he’ll find. From his experience, back workrooms are almost always stuffed to the brim with supplies that are in constant threat of toppling over with cramped room for a coat and a thousand pens.

To his surprise, it’s bright and airy and almost half the size of the public space. There are three large stainless steel tables in the middle, each with projects at various stages. One wall is lined with refrigerators full of lone flowers and completed arrangements. Another wall has two small offices. Overall, it’s light and airy and it’s clear that there is a system in place that keeps everything running smoothly.

He’s startled out of his study by a low voice that immediately beckons him closer.

“I’m not done,” the voice growls, impatient. “I told you and Iz that I’d be spending the day in the back catching up on orders and I refuse to talk to the customers. Wouldn’t know a freesia from a dahlia,” he mutters, annoyed.

“Well, I hope you don’t think so poorly of all your clientele,” Magnus replies and feels like someone’s just landed a punch to his gut as the man’s head snaps up and he meets hazel eyes.

“Who are you,” the man demands.

This exasperated stranger is a vision and Magnus doesn’t know how he failed to notice him in the first place. He’s tall with messy hair and a few days worth of stubble gracing his jaw. His gaze is sharp, catching everything, and he looks the antithesis of what Magnus always imagined a florist to be-- dark, broody, and antisocial.

Magnus is instantly charmed.

He steps forward and holds out a hand over the table. He flashes his best smile. “My name is Magnus Bane and I’ve bought the place next door. I thought I’d come over and introduce myself to the proprietors of this lovely flower shop.”

It’s quiet for a moment before the dashing stranger slides a hand into his, warm with faint callouses along the palm.

“Alec,” he says, voice tentative yet steady.

Neither one notices that their poor excuse for a handshake-- it’s more of an embrace than anything, really-- is still going on, both too entranced with the other.

Finally, Magnus snaps back to attention, letting go of Alec’s hand with a faint squeeze. He tries to ignore the shiver that travels up his spine as he swears Alec sweeps a thumb over his palm as he lets go.

Clearing his throat, Magnus says, “I didn’t mean to intrude but your employee, Sherman, did say that I should come back here. I promise I’m not trespassing.”

Alec’s lips quirk. “He’s probably laughing his ass off at springing a stranger on me.” He shakes his head, rueful. “There’s a reason I’m a florist and not a barista.”

“More of a tea person?”

Laughing, Alec replies, “I prefer that my company be silent and impervious to my bad moods.”

“Ah,” Magnus says. “Should I go then?” He starts to turn around, set to leave, when he catches Alec’s aborted gesture of almost grabbing his sleeve.

“No need. It’s probably practical and good business to know who your neighbors are.”

“Probably,” Magnus confirms, smiling.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Alec looks at Magnus through his lashes. “So what are you converting the space into? The space next door doesn’t have the best track record. The last three retailers sold enamel pigs, candles, and homemade wine respectively.”

“Enamel pigs,” Magnus asks, confused and a little afraid.

“They were twice my size and painted garishly,” Alec replies, solemn.

Magnus barks out a laugh. “Good to know that my predecessors were so pioneering. I’m opening a bookstore, Bane Books. Nothing so kitschy, I’m afraid.”

Alec interest turns sharp. “A bookstore? The nearest bookstore is almost twenty miles away.”

“That’s one of the reasons I picked this location,” Magnus confirms. “I was looking for a place that there was not only an interest but a void. I’m hoping to have an array of material and host events, even author visits. I think the small town vibe is perfect for the shop, don’t you?”

Alec nods mutely and Magnus chooses to take it as wholehearted agreement and not just mere politeness. It wouldn’t do to ruin someone’s dreams, after all, when they’d just taken out a business loan that had given them their first gray hair.

Smiling, Magnus takes a step back. “It was nice meeting you, Alexander, but I should probably return to my space. A friend is overseeing the renovation and he has a habit of running the contractors out.”

“Good luck,” Alec offers before straightening and heading to one of the fridges at the back. Magnus lingers, curious. 

Alec must find what he’s looking for because he turns back around seconds later, small pot in his hands holding a deep purple flower.

“For you,” Alec says, and holds out the flower.

“Any special reason,” Magnus asks, taking the flower in his hands gently. He can’t stop the smile that curves his mouth.

“Think of it as a welcome present.”

“Thank you, Alec.”

Magnus’s voice is sincere and he smiles at Alec before turning and heading out of the swinging doors. He doesn’t catch the startled then gleeful glance that Simon throws his way as he rings up Mrs. Herondale, the dour regular that visits every afternoon.

When Ragnor asks him what on earth he’s carrying, Magnus just shrugs and answers that he's met the neighbors.

Ragnor glares at the flowers, askance, as Magnus carefully clears a corner of their desk and sets the pot down, staring at the little purple flowers wistfully.

 

“Alexander,” Magnus cries. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

Alec looks strangely vulnerable without his apron and plant shears. He’s dressed in a denim button down and black skinny jeans complete with his customary combat boots. He’s holding a clear glass vase with a pink ribbon tied around it.

Magnus accepts the offer, sniffing the flowers and trying to hide his grimace. He’s gotten to know Alec over the past few months as renovations took place at Bane’s Books and Alec always gave him something-- herbs, vases, a single bloom in a clay pot. It was an adorable quirk and definitely isn’t helping the crush that Magnus is trying desperately to bury.

“Thank you,” Magnus says, admiring the white flowers. He looks up and sees Alec already looking at him.

“Peace lilies. They’re for good luck and calming stress,” Alec says easily. “Seemed appropriate for a new business owner.”

“Thank you,” Magnus repeats, softer this time. It was opening day of his store and the place is packed. He sees Raphael and Maia manning the counter and his heart sings at the line of people waiting to purchase their items.

“I’ll have to start repaying you,” Magnus teases.

Alec smiles, ducking his head down. The gesture makes Magnus’s heart melt, the damned traitor.

Someone catches his attention from across the store-- a couple who looks confused at the journal display-- and Magnus gives Alec an apologetic look. “It looks like someone needs my help--”

Alec waves him away. “Go do your job. I can entertain myself.”

“But since he’s so boring, I’ll keep him out of your hair,” Izzy grins, slipping an arm around Alec waist as she smiles at Magnus. “Congratulations,” she says, making a show of looking around the store impressed.

“Thank you, Isabelle,” Magnus says warmly. He throws one last smile over his shoulder as he goes to attend to his guests-- the customers of this small town that will make or break him.

It’s a few hours later, the sun long since gone down when Magnus pauses for a breath. He’d helped fix the dozen little things that were bound to go wrong on his first day of business-- one of the cash registers started beeping angrily with an error message blaring across the screen, they’d run out of bags, and someone had spilled wine on another’s dress.

Magnus had found out later that the two women had a feud going back several years and that he could consider their spat in the middle of his store a sort of rite of passage into the town.

Magnus was exhausted. His feet were sore, he was running on pure caffeine and a buzzing sort of energy, and he was so relieved that he wasn’t an unmitigated disaster-- at least his first day.

The store is starting to clear out. Magnus glances at the clock against the wall and sees that the store will be closing in less than an hour.

He’s on his way to the checkout counter, to check in on his staff, when a tall figure catches his attention. Instead, he ends up walking over to the romance section, of all things.

“Alexander, what are you still doing here?”

Alec looks up, a frown of concentration still marring his brow, and Magnus resists the urge to reach out and smooth it away.

Alec holds up the book he was looking at before shaking the basket slung over his arm. “I figured that since I was here that I might as well make the best of it. You have a great collection.”

Grinning, Magnus takes a quick peek at the half dozen books Alec’s acquired and sees everything from cooking books to classic novels. “I’m glad we could cater to your eclectic tastes.”

“I like a bit of everything,” Alec agrees. He looks over Magnus. “How are you holding up?”

Magnus blinks. “Oh, I’m doing perfect. The first day was a success and nothing disastrous happened and I get to spend a few minutes talking to my favorite florist.”

Magnus immediately clamps his mouth shut, wondering why the hell he’d said that. It must be the opening stress catching up to him. He’d been working round the clock-- sometimes eighteen hour days-- leading up to the grand opening and today has been long, no matter that it’s gone so well.

Alec seems to take it in stride, though Magnus thinks that he can detect a faint blush rushing across his cheeks.

“I asked how you were doing, not the store. I still remember what it was like when Izzy and I decided to open Lightwood Blooms. We slept, ate, and breathed the store for the first year or so.”

“When did you open the shop?”

“I was twenty three and Izzy was only twenty one.”

“Magnus raises a brow, impressed. “That was quite the undertaking, especially so young.”

Shrugging, Alec explains, “We’d always talked about opening up a business together. Flowers were a natural fit.”

“Forgive me, darling, but I don’t think that anyone would look at you and automatically assume that you have a passion for flora.”

Rolling his eyes, Alec says, “It’s calming. You get to shape something out of nothing and it’s for a special occasion, an event. Sometimes it’s just because the customer wanted a spot of brightness in their day. I was made for this.”

Magnus’s eyes soften as he takes in Alec’s impassioned speech. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me but I appreciate the insight nonetheless,” he says and hopes that his heart eyes aren’t too obvious.

Maia waves him over and Alec sees the motion, gesturing to his book. “I should get going,” he says. “I have work in the morning.”

“Tough boss,” Magnus asks, laughing.

Alec just gives him a stern look. “He’s a stickler for the rules.”

“Well, we can’t have you breaking the rules now, can we?” 

Without thinking about it, Magnus leans forward and picks up one of his favorite books, a romance between a professor and a celebrity set in New York. The two of them make their way to the counter where Raphael rings Alec out.

“Here, dear, include this at no charge.” Magnus hands the book over and sees the trio giving him confused looks.

“Magnus, this is your grand day opening. I’m supposed to pay for the merchandise,” Alec says deadpan.

Magnus just shrugs. “You’ve been giving me flowers for weeks, Alexander. Think of this as a token of my appreciation-- both for the flowers and for being the first friendly face I met here.”

Alec smiles, ducking his head so that Magnus can’t quite see his expression. “Then, thank you Magnus for the book and not being another terrible neighbor.”

The two of them just stare at each other before startling as Raphael clears his throat pointedly.

Magnus snaps back to action, pointing at the bag of books. “The book I gave you, _Higher than the Big Trees_ , is my favorite of all time. I read my first copy cover to cover in college until it was falling apart.”

“I can’t wait to read it, then.”

Alec swipes his card and pays as he exchanges increasingly incredulous looks from Maia. Finally, he sends her a glare before Alec straightens from signing the receipt and smiles at him.

Magnus helplessly smiles back.

“Congratulations, Magnus. You’ve worked hard and it looks like it’s paid off.”

“Thank you, Alexander. I’m glad I could share this with you.”

They share a charged look before a loud noise makes them both jump. Turning, they see that Simon knocked a display of books over, causing them to crash to the floor. Before Magnus can rush over, though, Maia’s already rounding the counter.

Magnus turns back to Alec as they each take a step back. They exchange one last round of goodbyes before Alec heads to the front door into the chilly October evening.

Magnus sighs and refuses to look away from the entrance for just another minute.

Most of it is that he just _knows_ that Raphael is leveling an exasperated look at his back.

He can’t deny that a small part, though, is that he simply doesn’t want Alec out of his sight.

 

The fall and winter pass in a blur. Magnus grows even closer to Alec as the trees lose their leaves and their small upstate town is pummeled with snow.

They share meals and lunch hour conversation and Magnus can’t believe how easy things are with Alec. He didn’t think it was possible to become friends so quickly, so completely, especially as an adult.

He’s confided in Alec-- truthfully, Alec has been his rock. It’s been wonderful getting to know the man behind the blossoms. Alec is smart and sarcastic and has a heart of gold and a mind that never stops. Every time Alec listens to his latest disaster as an entrepreneur and offers his sympathy along with practical advice, Magnus falls a little bit more.

He doesn't know why he hasn’t made a move, really. As Magnus completes inventory during a slow, rainy morning, he lets his mind wander.

Through the chaos and stress that is opening a new business, Alec has been by his side. They’ve shared pizza while marathoning scary movies and he’d even persuaded Alec to go to a local play with him.

There have been a few times when he thought _maybe_ \-- Magnus had slipped while putting up Christmas lights outside of his store window one December morning and thankfully Alec had caught him. He hadn’t let go right away and as Magnus’s gaze had dropped to lips red with the cold, he swore that he heard Alec’s breath stutter.

The moment had been frozen, on the precipice of almost, but Alec had summarily released him and stepped back, retreating to his flower shop to complete suddenly urgent orders.

Alec had fallen asleep at Magnus’s place over pad thai and Brooklyn Nine Nine the evening after Valentine’s day, exhausted from the influx of orders, and Magnus had thrown a blanket over Alec’s snoring form before resuming the show-- only to end up falling asleep with his head on Alec’s shoulder.

Thankfully, the next morning hadn’t been half as awkward as it could have been but Magnus had been filled with the possibility.

Magnus crouches down, maneuvering books to get an accurate count when he hears the bell chime above the front door. He debates for a second but decides to leave the customer be. Raphael is easily visible at the counter and can help if need be.

He’s so absorbed in inventory and his swirling, confusing thoughts about Alec that he doesn’t hear the footsteps that lead unerring to him.

“Hey, Magnus.”

Magnus’s gaze flies up and he sees Alec in an oversized sweater, the sleeves hanging over his hands. He stands, leaving his clipboard on the floor and meets Alec’s eyes.

“Alexander, what are you doing here?” Magnus, though delighted, is a little confused. The mornings are Alec’s busiest time of the day and they didn’t have plans. He has to admit that he's curious about the flowers in his hand, though. Alec is always bringing him something and it's endearing as hell.

Clearing his throat, Alec says, “I read that book of poetry you gave me-- finished it last night, actually.”

“That’s great! How did you like _Letters to a Stranger?”_ The collection in question was one of only a few volumes of poetry that Magnus liked, let alone would recommend.

“It was good-- really good,” Alec says. He looks at Magnus like he’s asking a question and Magnus desperately tries to temper his expression, hoping to provide the answer that Alec wants.

He must pass because Alec clears his throat before running a rand through his hair. “I wish that I’d had that book in high school, “ he says. “I spent a lot of years, most of my adolescence, struggling with being gay and just knowing that there was someone out there like me, let alone an entire book, would have probably worked wonders.”

Magnus’s brain screeches to a halt as he processes that Alec just explicitly came out to him. While part of him is ecstatic to learn that at least Alec’s sexuality isn’t a hindrance, he’s overwhelmed with gratitude.

Without thinking, he lays a hand on Alec’s arm, stepping closer. “Thank you for telling me that. I’m glad that you trust me enough to let me in.’ He laughs, self deprecating. “I’m in the same boat, you know. I was raised in small Midwest city and when I realized that I was bisexual, it was a little isolating. I put on a front but there were some difficult days. Luckily, I found books. Back then, ten years ago, there weren’t as many stories about people like me-- like us-- and I’m so glad that it’s changed now. I have another collection, _Not Here_ by Nguyen, that I read last summer just before I moved from the city and I immediately reread it as soon as I finished the last page. I can show you where it is?”

Alec nods without saying a word and Magnus leads them to the poetry section, easily pulling out a copy of the book.

“Thank you Magnus,” Alec says. “Not just for the book but for telling me another piece of your story.”

“There’s no one else that I’d rather tell, Alexander,” Magnus replies, warm and soft and altogether too obvious.

Alec scans over the cover of the book before tucking it under his arm and holding out the arrangement of flowers. “Happy Wednesday.”

Magnus accepts the flowers with a smile. While Magnus commissioned some flowers to spruce up his bookstore and had even collaborated with Alec on an event or two, it never failed to make him melt when Alec appeared with flowers.

“What are these,” Magnus asks, sniffing the blooms. They might still smell hideous but it’s the thought that counts and Magnus doesn’t let it faze him. He’s still hopeless at flowers, but Alec has a few species that he uses frequently. Magnus has caught onto the names of the standard roses and sunflowers and chrysanthemums. These are in an array of colors and look downright fun.

“They’re daffodils. Today’s a nice day and I thought it only appropriate to celebrate with a bold flower.”

“I love them, Alexander. Thank you.”

Alec shrugs, infuriatingly nonchalant and Magnus wonders that he’s the only person who receives flowers on a regular basis in such a purely platonic fashion.

Magnus bites back a sigh. More’s the pity.

Alec leaves the shop a few minutes later, book in hand and Magnus walks to the checkout counter, where he sets the vase of flowers next to the register. He fiddles with the petals, sighing over the softness, and wonders if there’s anything there or if he’s just hopelessly hopeful as usual.

From where he’s counting money out of the register, Raphael gives him a side glance. “How long will it take for you to get a clue?”

“What are you on about today, Raphael?”

Rolling his eyes, Raphael tallies the total. “When are you going to realize that Alec’s in love with you?”

Magnus looks up, arching a brow. “I assure you that I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear. Alec and I are just friends and I don’t know if there’s anything more to it, no matter how much I might wish.”

Raphael abandons the register, all of his attention now on Magnus, glaring in exasperation. “He’s been telling you how he feels for months now.”

Magnus makes a show of looking around the store. “Oh? How could I have missed the thousand clues he’s left me?”

If anything, Raphael just grows more annoyed “He’s a florist. He’s speaking to you in his own language. Sound familiar?”

Magnus feels pinned beneath Raphael’s glowering challenge. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says, eyes narrowed.

Raphael scoffs. “You’ve only been giving him your favorite books since the store opened and you discuss each one. There are some that even I didn’t know were special to you, or why. You’re telling Alec how you feel by letting him into your world. Is it so out of the box that Lightwood would do the same?”

Magnus tries to think but, “You know that I don’t know anything about flowers.”

Smirking, Raphael reaches in the drawer under the counter, pulling out a single sheet of paper and handing it to Magnus. Magnus accepts, reluctantly, and as he looks down at it he feels his heart stop before it starts beating a mile a minute.

It’s a list. Raphael had recorded every time that Alec had brought Magnus flowers, along with the flower type. In the third column, however, is what those flowers symbolize and Magnus can’t believe it as he reads meanings including everlasting friendship, passion, and first signs of love.

Magnus skims over the dozens of columns. The list isn’t even complete. Raphael doesn’t know about the times that Alec brought Magnus flowers when they were hanging out on the weekend or going out to dinner after a stressful day.

As Magnus sees the meaning of daffodils, though, he lets out a shuddering breath and lets the full force of his hope hit him.

Daffodils symbolize unrequited love.

It’s quiet in the store as Magnus thinks over the past months. He’d chalked up any sign of Alec reciprocating his love as his imagination and wishful thinking but with Raphael’s list, surely it wasn’t all in his head?

Alec is a florist-- he has to know what the flowers mean.

Magnus looks up, dazed, and sees Raphael’s smug expression. “Shut up,” he says absently.

Suddenly, he reaches for his phone and opens a new Google tab. He scrolls through links and looks through pictures before his eyes glue to one plant in particular. When he reads the description, he knows that he’s found it.

He doesn’t deign to respond to Raphael before he’s leaving the bookstore. Flinging open the door of Alec’s flower shop, he only has eyes for the man who’s helping an elderly woman choose between two colors of roses.

“Ambrosia,” Magnus calls out. He’s nervous but there’s an underlying current of certainty-- it’s time that he went after what he wanted, damn the consequences.

Alec looks up in confusion, eyes brightening as they land on Magnus. “Hey, what’s up? Do you need something?”

Now that he’s looking for it, now that he knows that it isn’t just his own yearning reflected in Alec’s eyes, Magnus steels his nerves before stepping forward.

“I’d like some ambrosia,” he says, voice steady and sure.

Alec starts to frown, brow crinkled in thought before his face goes blank. Magnus worries for a moment that he actually has read this situation entirely wrong-- damn Raphael, he’s _so_ fired-- when Alec takes his own step forward, towards Magnus.

Alec keeps walking, footsteps sure but hesitant, until he’s within arms reach. His eyes search Magnus’s as he whispers, “Why do you need ambrosia?”

Closing the distance, Magnus cups Alec’s face in his hands, peering into Alec’s beautiful hazel eyes with wonder and a sort of amused joy. “Because,” he says, “I just realized that someone’s been talking to me for ages and it’s about time I responded.”

Magnus watches the instant grin that lights up Alec’s face as he processes the words. “People aren’t usually fluent in my language.”

“Maybe not,” Magnus says, sweeping his thumb along Alec’s cheek. He feels anticipation like a living wire, just under his skin. “But I want to be fluent in you.”

He hears Alec’s quick intake of breath and then he can’t think at all. Alec pulls him close, sliding hands over his hips and kisses him for all he’s worth.

Magnus does his best to just hold on and loses himself in Alec.

It’s hot but unbearably soft and Magnus distantly wonders how he didn’t do this sooner. The kiss spins out and his senses are clouded by Alec, his Alexander-- by the smell of soil and flowers with the undercurrent of Alec’s cologne and the way Alec’s hands bite into his hips in the best way.

When they break apart long seconds later, Magnus feels changed, new. He tries to regulate his breathing and grins when he hears how out of breath Alec is, too.

They grin at each other, lost to everything else. Magnus pulls Alec back, laying a lingering kiss on his mouth and humming in contentment before moving to his cheek and jaw and brow.

“Well, it was about time, dear.”

Magnus startles as the old woman Alec was helping earlier walks up to them and pats both of them on the shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

She just laughs like it’s the funniest joke that Magnus has ever told. “I’ve been telling young Alec here for months to get off his tush and tell you how he felt but he just ignored me. It’s obvious to the whole town that the two of you have been dancing around each other since you moved here last year. There’s even a bet down at the Institute Bar about when the two of you will figure things out and put the rest of us out of our misery.”

Magnus looks at her agog, gratified as he sees Alec do the same.

“It’s true you know,” Isabelle says, walking out of the back room with an arm full of herb pots. “I bet a hundred dollars that you two wouldn’t have gotten your shit together until Christmas-- of next year.”

Alec glares at his sister before looking at Magnus. “I didn’t know that we were such hot gossip,” he says, a smile in his eyes.

Magnus winds his arms around Alec as he replies, “Haven’t you heard? Love is the most interesting story of all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ambrosia symbolizes reciprocation of love <3
> 
> Catch me on tumblr @carmenlire! I'm always accepting prompts:)


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